


Falling Wasn't Supposed To Be This Literal (Though At This Point It's Not Much Of A Surprise)

by PennamePersona



Series: Clinic AU [11]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennamePersona/pseuds/PennamePersona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Lalonde lives alone. She is very close to three people. One is her twin brother. The other two are mutual friends.</p><p>Her life is nothing spectacular. She is content, maybe, most days. But she lives with the ashes and carefully filtered light, so when she falls and there is warmth, it is very difficult to forget.</p><p>Kanaya Maryam was leaving the clinic at the end of her shift and caught a young woman just before she hit the pavement. She stayed to make sure the woman was alright and received quite the surprise.</p><p>A tale of the taste of ash and the warmth of light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Wasn't Supposed To Be This Literal (Though At This Point It's Not Much Of A Surprise)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here's a completely Rosemary Clinic AU, which I enjoy. It's been fun, having this verse branch out. I really loved the positive response on the last one, and I've got another one all ready! So I'll be posting that...eventually.

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and some days, the taste of ash sits in your mouth.

 

You are 24 years old, and you live alone. Your apartment is tastefully decorated (which occurred over the course of many years - college students hardly have money to waste on interesting candlesticks), the colors comfortable to you. It is rare that your couch and your bed do not both give off the appearance of being slept in. Your closet is full of clothes and only half of them fit a color scheme you would choose for yourself.

 

Your WiFi connection is fairly strong. There are occasional thumps coming from neighboring apartments, but nothing extreme. Your life is peaceful. You can stay up and write until 1 AM with a cup of too-cold tea every night of the week, if you want. Your brother visits often. So do your friends. Every so often, your cousins come to call.

 

You are lying on your bed right now, just woken up from a dream that is slipping away. The most you can remember is that you were smoking in it, despite never having touched a cigarette in your life. It is not the first time you have had this kind of dream. You hate them. You have had some trouble with alcoholism in your past, but never with a nicotine addiction. 

 

And yet still, sometimes you find yourself desperately craving the taste of ash in your mouth.

 

You've never mentioned this to anyone. You never saw any reason to, and Dave...hasn't needed you, lately. Which is good. You're happy for him. He and Jade have been together for going on four years, and last year, they even moved in together. You gave him a fish. 

 

You're tired. You barely got any sleep, maybe two hours, if you're lucky. You've been up writing for quite a while now (you actually aren't sure how long), and there's still something missing. You can't quite grasp what it is, but you think a walk might help.

 

You're still in lazy clothes, leggings and a too big shirt. It's unclear as to which articles of clothing you are currently wearing are technically Dave's and which are technically yours. You can't quite bring yourself to figure it out.

 

You grab your notebook and pen and slip on your shoes. Might as well jot down whatever observations come to mind, see if that helps at all.

 

You walk on, the temperature a bit cool for early June. You must look like quite the sight, stumbling along, sleep-deprived writer that you are. You really can't bring yourself to care, though.

 

You're near the hospital now, you think. The trees outside of the clinic portion of it are actually quite nice, and you find yourself caught up in that for a moment. You open your notebook, put your pen to the paper, and write...something. Oh, well. It might make sense to you later, and then again, it might not. You're not typically a gambling woman, but you might as well give it a shot.

 

You look up and see a nurse exiting the clinic portion of the hospital. She's quite pretty, dark skin and short, black hair. Those scrubs don't do her justice, but you think she still manages to pull them off rather well.

 

Your eyes meet hers, briefly, and you make a half-conscious step towards her. You do not look where you are going, stumbling, sleep-deprived writer that you are. You trip over...something...and panic flares in you for a moment. You wonder, briefly, if the panic was your own, or a reaction to the panic in her eyes.

 

And then there is a warmth, quickly followed by darkness.

 

* * *

 

You wake up to light, which is unpleasant. It isn't gray light filtered by a cloudy sky, isn't vague light managing to stream through your curtains, isn't softly flickering candlelight, and thus, is entirely unwelcome.

 

You open your eyes and see the fluorescent lights of a hospital room. Ah, yes. You passed out just outside of the hospital. Of course.

 

There's a slight shifting to your one side, and you know it's Dave before you even turn to look.

 

"Tell me I didn't trip." You say, flatly. "I don't care if it's a lie. Just tell me I didn't trip."

 

"You didn't trip." Dave says. "You didn't even hit the pavement."

 

"How much of that was a lie?" You ask, concern growing slightly. You really don't want to deal with a head wound. That's much more John's area than yours.

 

"The tripping part. You're good. You passed out from sleep deprivation, I think." He says. "Don't worry, John and you won't be starting some kind of Idiot Head Wound Club."

 

"Technically, a minimum of three people are required to form an official club," You absentmindedly correct. "And it is entirely possible that the sleep deprivation was not the only reason I lost consciousness."

 

"Oh really?" Dave asks, eyebrow raising dramatically.

 

"Really." You grin devilishly. "You should have seen the nurse coming out of the clinic."

 

Dave blinks for a moment, his lip twitches, and then he leans forward.

 

"Your type?" He questions. 

 

" _Extremely_." You respond. "She looked gorgeous in scrubs, Dave. Scrubs."

 

"Oh my," He says, not even bothering to hide his smile.

 

You've never had this kind of conversation with Dave before. It's always been so much more hesitant, more explaining than you need to do now, more on the hypothetical side of the concept. But you want to share this with Dave, and maybe it's the extreme tiredness that's opening your mouth, but this is Dave. How much more safe can you get?

 

"Oh my, indeed." You say. "I'm sure I'll remember her face for the rest of my life. So gorgeous, elegant even in hospital wear. But alas! I'm sure I'll never see her again."

 

"That isn't necessarily strictly true." Dave says, looking a subtle combination of amused and panicked. "Depending almost solely on whether or not you turn your head."

 

You can feel the blood running out of your face.

 

You turn your head.

 

The (gorgeous, elegant, beautiful) nurse is sitting in your hospital room in a chair. She looks extremely embarrassed, a blush tinting her dark cheeks. You briefly think that she somehow looks even more attractive, and then you turn back to your brother.

 

"Smother me with a pillow." You instruct him, lifting your head up. "Go on, I won't even struggle."

 

"No can do, sis," Dave says, complete and utter traitor that he is. "It's a hospital. Killing you is probably illegal. Especially in the presence of a medical professional!"

 

You hear something that can actually be described as a _squeak_  come from where the nurse is sitting.

 

"Ah, I am terribly sorry!" She says, and you turn back to look at her, sure that your face is so red, you look like one of Dave's shirts. "I only...well, I simply wanted to be sure that you were alright. I. I am so very sorry for interrupting."

 

She stands up, looking so awkward your heart clenches. She's out the door before you have a chance to say anything, so you just watch as the door closes and you lose the best piece of eye candy you have ever seen.

 

"So..." Dave says. "That went well."

 

You flop back onto the pillow and groan.

 

* * *

 

Rose is checking out of the hospital, since, as it happens, she's totally fine. You're going to walk her back to her apartment and make her sleep for at least eight hours because you're a good brother like that.

 

You should probably text Jade and let her know where you'll be (sometimes you realize how great it is that you've got to let Jade know where you are because you're cohabitating).

 

Also, you should find that nurse.

 

You send Jade a text and wander a bit. You come across the nurse fairly quickly. She's getting her things. Right, she was probably already done with her shift when she came across Rose. So she really did just stick around to see how Rose was doing...

 

Huh. You know where this is going. You pride yourself on your gaydar. Rose didn't even really have to come out to you, you just sort of stared when Dirk bothered to, and you knew Roxy was bi before she did. And you can clearly hear the alarm going off.

 

This girl is so gay. And she's gay for your sister.

 

"Oh cool, there you are." You say, and she jumps. You'd feel bad if that hadn't been your intention.

 

"Oh, hello." She says, still looking just a bit like a deer in the headlights.

 

"Thanks for saving my sister." You say, and watch her relax just a bit. 

 

"Of course. It is my job, after all." She replies, smoothly.

 

"Wow, didn't think that catching fainting ladies was on a job description for being a nurse," You say. "Although, I do think Rose mentioned something about that being on the test she took to get her Lesbian License."

 

You really don't know how to describe the look she's giving you right now. You decide to just keep talking.

 

"She's totally into you, by the way. Which you probably picked up on." You prepare yourself for Rose to yell at you if/when she finds out about this conversation. "So the good news is that you've definitely got a shot with her. Especially if you're patient with her."

 

"You seem very involved in your sister's love life." She says, giving you a bit of a Look. You decide that you like this lady.

 

"Never had a chance to before," You say. "She does the same for me. We look out for each other."

 

And that's all the soul-bearing you're doing for this particular stranger today.

 

She nods, like she understands. Maybe she does. You hardly know how common your kind of situation is.

 

"So anyway," You say. "I should probably take Rosie home, get her to sleep."

 

"Yes," Kanaya says. "That sounds like the reasonable course of action."

 

Ha, she's just as wordy as you and Rose when she's nervous. 

 

"See ya," You say, saluting her briefly and walking away with reasonably significant amounts of swagger in your step.

 

* * *

 

You're taking deep breaths as you stand outside of the clinic.

 

You can do this. Dave has coached you (which, yes, did feel a bit ridiculous), you're wearing something much more flattering than when you last saw her (3/4-sleeved lilac top with a black skirt and flats), and Dave did say that she seemed interested in you.

 

You tried not to think about when he learned that tidbit of information. You're close enough to a panic attack as it is.

 

You take up all of your strength and force yourself into the clinic by sheer force of willpower.

 

You can't see her, not at first. There's another nurse filing paperwork, who appears to be muttering to himself. Well, that's certainly something.

 

"Excuse me." You say, voice unshaken (the same cannot be said for the rest of you). "I'm looking for someone."

 

"Hm?" The nurse's head snaps up. It appears that he was so engrossed in talking to himself that he didn't even notice your arrival.

 

"I said - "

 

You are interrupted by another nurse walking to the front, bag over her shoulder, scrubs a different color, but still very much the same nurse who caught you before you hit the pavement two weeks ago.

 

"I'm leaving, Karkat. I'll see you back home in a few hours." She says, and you do your best not to jump to conclusions. You do keep up a chant in your head, however, of _please don't let them be together please don't let them be together please don't let them be together please_  - 

 

"Yeah, sure." The other nurse says. "See you, Kanaya."

 

Kanaya (what a lovely name) turns and sees you. Your mouth dries up instantly.

 

"Hello." She says, eyes wide. Karkat turns at the tone of her voice, eyebrows drawn together in confusion (or concern?). His gaze flicks to you, then back to Kanaya, then to you again.

 

"And then again, maybe I won't be seeing you tonight." He says, corner of his mouth twitching. "I'll just let you two be, since I'm finally done with this stupid fucking paperwork."

 

Neither of you says anything for a moment after Karkat leaves, and then you consciously decide to be the one to start this, once again on pure willpower.

 

"I was wondering if you'd like to get something to drink." You say. "With me. And non-alcoholic."

 

You want to wince, but your facade does not allow for it. Smooth, Rose. As smooth as Dave.

 

"I would love to," She says, a hesitant smile on her face. "I know a place that makes excellent tea, if you like tea?"

 

"I love tea." You say, allowing your own smile to stretch across your lips.

 

* * *

 

Kanaya Maryam is your first date. She's your first girlfriend, the first girl you introduce to your rag-tag group of close people, the first girl you bring back to your apartment for the sake of a quieter closeness.

 

She's your first kiss. She's the first girl you say "I love you" to in a romantic sense.

 

She's the first girl who takes you to meet her (large) family, the first girl who moves in with you.

 

And years later, she's the girl you marry.

 

Kanaya Maryam is the first girl who helps you to understand the concept of soulmates in a romantic sense. She's the first girl to give you a real reason to consider being a mother. She's the girl that you feel so safe and comfortable with, the girl whose soul is so close to yours, you barely have to reach out to touch it.

 

And years later, Kanaya Maryam is the last girl you kiss. Kanaya Maryam is the last girl you to say "I love you" to in a romantic sense. She's the girl you stay married to from your twenties on, for the rest of your lives.

 

Dave likes to joke about you literally falling for her. You roll your eyes, but you've never corrected him.

 

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and in this girl, in Kanaya Maryam, you've found something so incredibly and inherently valuable to you that you don't know how to put it in words, and for the first time, you don't feel ashamed of that.

 

Your name is Rose Lalonde, and some days, you embrace the light. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments are always appreciated, and you can reach me on tumblr at: pennamepersona.tumblr.com.
> 
> And yes, my animosity for the word inflammable is a ridiculously real thing. It is such a thing.
> 
> [Buy me a coffee!](https://ko-fi.com/A375K8Q)


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